And It Leaked
by PlanetOfTheWeepingWillow
Summary: A series of short omorashi tales. Each focusing on a certain topic and character. I keep bringing up China though. No actual pairings, maybe some mentions, mostly one character things Enjoy!
1. Bedwetter America

**And Then It Leaked**

**This is indeed an OMORASHI(piss, wetting one's self) fanfiction! If you do not like then do not read! Easy as that!**

**So basically I will go through characters and situations in each chapter.**

**I tend to harass China the most so expect to see him a load**

**I'll start subtle...**

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**Chapter 1: Bed Wetter**

**Character: America**

America shifted in his sleep, blinking at the alarm clock. The room was much darker than he was used to. "5 am...?"he muttered and turned his back to the red numbers.

He couldn't recall having a bad dream, in fact, what did he dream about? Oh yeah, he was dreaming he was sitting on the toilet and pissing.

America sat up, _what? _he thought, putting his glasses on. _why would I dream of that?_

He felt something wet by his thighs, he looked down and gasped in horror. His thighs and most of his upper pants were soaked. Soaked to his skin so the silk fabric stuck to his skin. Alfred turned the light on, he hoped he had just had a wet dream and not actually pissed himself.

At least then he could explain.

He stood, realizing his uthera was still leaking. He gasped and ran to the bathroom, cursing rather loudly as he stopped just as he pulled his pants down.

America went back to his bed and sniffed the sheets, urine. He scrunched up his nose and pulled the covers off, as well as his still dripping pants. "What the hell did I drink last night?" he sighed and pulled the covers out the room, stopping halfway and yawning.

Wait

He was at a hotel. He looked around frantically, he mst have woken someone. He ran back and pushed the covers to the corner of the room, curled up in a ball on the bed.

It felt so good.

He grinned and ran up to the small fridge and drinking all the water. He'd be leaving the next day and he planned to go early. He was only staying here for the conference. He'd make double sure he'd never come back to this hotel.

He pulled off his soaked pants and threw them into the skin to wash. His grin grew and he walked up to the bed, holding his cock ready for aim.

Just as he was ready to let loose, common sense came back. "What the hell am I doing? Did I have too much beer? I bet Russia rigged my drink." He sighed and sat down, but the liquid sloshed around in him, spurting out. America gaped and stood, trying to stop it and make it to the bathroom on time.

Sadly, it kept coming, soaking the bed sheets yet again (America had put them back on.)

He gritted his teeth, mind telling him to stand still, so he wouldn't drip all over the floor and make a bigger mess. He watched the sheets stain yellow and the liquid seep through. _This is so not happening._ He scrunched his nose again at the smell of piss.

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	2. Party Russia

**And Then It Leaked**

**This is indeed an OMORASHI(piss, wetting one's self) fanfiction! If you do not like then do not read! Easy as that!**

**So basically I will go through characters and situations in each chapter.**

**Russia's turn!**

**Due upon request**

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**Chapter 2: Party **

**Character: Russia**

Russia walked around the house, it belong to the UN and the only reason he's here is due to a Christmas party thrown by America or whoever. He sipped from the beer bottle, he'd already had a few shots of Vodka and wanted to go subtle. He looked at the furniture, watching the other nations babble on about some crap nobody really cares about. He looked at his sisters, Ukraine trying to talk to someone only to be rejected and Belarus wanting to be talked to and only rejecting.

The party drew on for another half hour before everyone was called to a stage of sorts. The UN along with England stood there, talking about the Olympics and what not.

Russia stood in the middle, simply because he did not want to stand in the back and he was too tall to be in the front where the shorter nations stood. Like WY and Sealand and the Seychelles.

He had finished at least two bottles of beer and several more shots of vodka. He wasn't drunk or anything, Russia was rather notorious for being able to hold his liquor down.

About now he regretted choosing to stand in the middle. The pressure in his bladder that had been building up for the past hour was near unbearable about now. He cursed himself, the biggest nation in the world need to go potty like a three year old.

He shifted from foot to foot, pressing his thighs together. As the speech drew on, the pressure grew more and more. He shoved a hand against his crotch, holding onto his manhood, trying to squeeze the uthera close.

He cursed again, squeezing it harder and knowing someone was bound to look over and stat a riot.

Another thirty minutes and he just couldn't hold it. A small jet of urine pushed through, giving great relief but also wetting his pants front. He needed to get through the crowd but they wouldn't be parted easily. Another stream, this time showing darker on his pants. What a lousy day to wear beige colored trousers.

It felt so good though. He let it out slowly, hoping to run out once the crowd parted. Belarus and Ukraine had noticed at this point but didn't dare say a word. Russia moaned a little as the urine wouldn't stop, the warm fluid traced down his legs, wetting his pants and causing a rank smell to appear.

He was very soon standing in a puddle of his own urine. His shoes and pants soaked. He looked at himself, half in amusement and half in embarrassment.

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	3. Conference Lithuania

**And Then It Leaked**

**This is indeed an OMORASHI(piss, wetting one's self) fanfiction! If you do not like then do not read! Easy as that!**

**So basically I will go through characters and situations in each chapter.**

**Lithuania's turn!**

**Due upon request**

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**Chapter 3: Lithuania**

**Character: Conference scare**

Liet just knew he shouldn't have drunk so much juice. Yet he couldn't refuse Belarus's morc and the tea Britian offered, or even the cherry juice Russia gave him.

He really hated his submissive personality sometimes.

Today was just not his day, he sat in his seat by Poland who was painting his nails again and humming some music. Lithuania tittered his leg madly, biting his lip and blushing. His hands shot to his crotch and clutched it, feeling the liquid slosh around inside him and press against his uthera.

He lets out a small gasp as a small jet of urine escapes him. He really should've just gone to the bathroom. Well, it was a no-break meeting and he worried movement would just worsen the rapidly growing pressure inside him. He really needed to release this liquid, _now. _Lithuania looked over at Poland who had grown bored of the meeting and had a white ear bud in his left ear, hidden under his hair and laced with pink stripes.

Lithuania smiled a little, his best friend really was a lot like a teenage girl. His muscles relaxed and another small stream of urine pushed out of him. He let out a squeak, louder than the previous one, and bit his lip. He hoped no one heard, but everything was loud and blu-ray quality for him.

The small drops of yellow that pummeled the carpet sounded like gun shots, his whimpers and moans like a tractors grunts. The trickle onto the hard word seat a hammer on a nail and the nearly silent hiss was as loud as a hose in Lithuania's ears.

Giving up and letting his almighty bladder win, he watched the liquid make dark stains down his pants, come out the end of the trousers and drop into the larger puddle on the floor that had come when he "ejected" harder previously. The yellow liquid turned into a dark stain on the purple carpet.

For fear of being discovered, Lithuania yawned and stretched, knocking down his water bottle onto his lap and spilling it over himself.

Now,_ to deal with that smell._

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	4. Park Sweden

**And Then It Leaked**

**This is indeed an OMORASHI(piss, wetting one's self) fanfiction! If you do not like then do not read! Easy as that!**

**So basically I will go through characters and situations in each chapter.**

**Sweden's turn!**

**Due upon request**

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**Chapter 3: Sweden**

**Character: Park**

Sweden sipped the cranberry soda and looked around the amusement park filled with screaming children and over worked students. People walked around, some sitting on the benches and munching on hot dogs and cotton candies, some watching the play showing, and others enjoying the rides. Sweden continued to look around, and walked around.

He scrunched up the plastic cup and tossed it into the trash, yawning, he decided to go on the Twister ride. He wasn't the only adult there and he ended up sitting by a young man with brown hair. The man spoke to him for a little, elated to find someone else who speaks Swedish.

After several rides, Sweden grew thirstier and headed to get a drink of water.

The cool liquid felt wonderful in his dried throat.

After an hour of rides, he turned into the small museum located in the park. Inside, there was a sound of rushing water, he turned to find a fountain and his bladder tightened.

He instantly regretted drinking so much.

Calm as ever, he walked over to the bathroom, only to find an out of order sign, he didn't dare go to the women's restroom. He frowned and walked outside and into the forested area. He stood behind a tree, well hidden behind flowers and greenery, he unzipped his pants and took a deep breath.

_Well, it's better than having an accident..._

__The yellow liquid curled and fell in heavy, scented, drops against the tree. He looked around quickly, the hair on the nape of his neck rising.

It was silent.

Only the sound of urine beating against the base of the tree and distant yells were heard.

The urine was hot and made small clouds of steam arise against the cool trunk. The hiss or water being shot was somewhat comforting. Sweden smiled despite of himself and shook himself gently, zipping up his pants he walked away. He enjoyed the quietness of the forest.

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	5. Just Japan Sealand and Poland

**And Then It Leaked**

**This is indeed an OMORASHI(piss, wetting one's self) fanfiction! If you do not like then do not read! Easy as that!**

**So basically I will go through characters and situations in each chapter.**

**Japan, Sealand and Poland's turn!**

**Due upon request**

**I'm putting three together due to lack of time**

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**Chapter 5a: Just a bit drunk**

**Character: Japan**

Japan lay down on his bed, a heavy night of drinking sake and various other wines really took a toll on him. He hiccuped and peeled off his clothing, laying down on the couch. He was startled when the door swung open suddenly, showing America, overly happy as always.

"Yo Japan!" he called, startling Japan further to the point his bladder ceased up. "America-san," was all he managed, through a hiccup.

America sat down heavily next to him. "Woah dude, you're like... drunk,"

Had Japan the right mind and lower alcohol levels, he'd look at him all "no shit Sherlock".

Instead he sat up and hiccuped further. Each sending another jet of urine closer to his uthera, making him even further worried.

Wait, he thought, he's motherf-king drunk. What would a fine fellow like the United States of America think if he wet himself?

Okay, maybe he really didn't think that. It was more like "_ahhh america no think bad if I_ piss.."

Japan is an interesting drunk.

So that's what lead on, he let the urine flow through him, wetting his pants and himself leaning back. America stared and sighed. "Dammit, Japan..." he hoisted the drunkard up and walked him over to the bathroom.

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**Chapter 5b: Just a boy**

******Character: Sealand**

****Sealand stood tall and proud, he slurped up his soda that uncle America bought for him joyfully, and walked around.

Where was he? He was at Fisherman's Warf, San Fransisco, California, USA.

He was invited over by some kids he met when he visited his uncle the other month.

Though, today, he was with a group. Lead by a tall woman. And he had had just one too many sodas and really needed to go.

But nope, he was a nation! He could hold in liquid, just you watch, and I mean you Arthur Kirkland.

So maybe not.

Sealand felt the pressure build up more and more as he threw away his empty can.

Eventually it felt as though he was ready to burst. He ran forward, feeling some dribble out of him. "Ma'am, I need to go," he whispered to the woman.

She pursed her ruby red, painted lips. "You should have gone when I asked you, two minutes ago,"

"But I didn't need to gooo then!" he clutched his crotch, ready to burst.

She sighed and dismissed him. He ran into the bathroom, at the thought of it, his bladder quenched up and began to release.

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**Chapter 5c: Just a bit of shoppinh**

**Character: Poland**

****Poland walked through the mall, a bag in hand filled with pink clothing. And gurrrrlll, he needed more. Way more, baby.

He shopped for pink nail polish, jewelry, headbands, knee socks, leg warmers, and everything else he could put on his body.

Speaking of his body, he was starting to regret that large coffee he had earlier. It was pushing at him, tugging his bladder, saying "come on! Let's go!".

Poland attempted to stand his ground, refusing to go anywhere. Sure, he could go now to the restroom, but he had been standing in line for 15 minutes already, and he was next. He will not go now and leave his perfectly good place.

Though, that throne sure looked tempting about now... Real tempting...

Poland crossed his legs and bit his lip. He needed to go very badly. Really badly.

The liquid sloshed around in him, he tightened his legs and hunched forward.

As soon as the lady at the register swiped his card, he grabbed it and ran straight for the bathroom.

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Sorry this took so long, I got your requests done though. huh?


	6. England

**And Then It Leaked**

**This is indeed an OMORASHI(piss, wetting one's self) fanfiction! If you do not like then do not read! Easy as that!**

**So basically I will go through characters and situations in each chapter.**

**England!**

**Due upon request**

**Sorry for my absence for an entire week, I also strive for my writing to be a bit better. So here's England with more detail on "the actual going" as asked, and I shall deliver. Next I'll try to put up that spammano that was wanted. **

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**Chapter 6: All in Good Time**

**Character: England**

England, high and mighty, on his couch he lay. He sipped the orange juice so graciously, for some bloke walked right in and stole all his darling liqour.

He stood up, one eye closed for it was still asleep, and walked over to the kitchen. He licked his lips, a nice piece of toast would do about now. Sadly, his request was berated by a phone call. With a last look of longing at the toaster, he picked up the receiver and answered it.

"Hey man! Wanna go to the movies?!" It was America, obviously.

England was not the least bit startled by the request, America had been constantly asking him to come along to watch a movie. He was afraid, being mugged not too long ago.

"Very well, what time?" he sighed, toast will have to wait for now.

"Right now! I'm outside your door," America laughed and hung up.

After a good hearted curse session, England fixed up his hair and slipped on his coat.

The movie seemed to draw on for hours on end, and England was starting to feel his eyelids give way. Then, suddenly, his groin twisted and pleaded to be freed from the liquid torturing it.

He stood up and started to make way to the throne, only to have his hand grabbed by America. America looked at him with a puppy-dog eyes and pulled him back down. "Please don't leave! The movie's starting to get creepy!" he whispered, or at least, tried to whisper. He was hushed at once by the people behind them and England wanted to slap that American right across the face.

"Very. Well." he said grouchily and with great remorse as he sat back down. Tightening his thighs and jacket he leaned back and and glowered at the screen.

The feeling grew stronger and England jerked in his seat, causing another angered hush from the folks behind him. He jammed his hands on his groin and leaned over, wanting to whimper or something degrading of that sort.

"You okay?" America looked over at his brother, biting his lip.

"Of c-course..." England managed to whimper before his groin gave up and showed England who's boss.

The urine, smelling lightly of oranges, pushed itself out of the man, sloshing and trickling down his pants and down his legs. The steamy liquid formed a small puddle by England's legs, and he didn't really find the feeling so bad and pushed harder, enough for the "sss" sound to be heard, but not quite noticed over the film's music.

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Requests are still open!


	7. Finland and Romano

**And It Leaked**

**Finland and Romano**

****_Oh boy, here we go again. As everyone is requesting, I've come back to deliver another chapter. (If you want to skip to Romano's part, just scroll down to "ROMANO" k? Good)_

**FINLAND**_  
_

Finland was in an awful situation. He stood in front of a hole in the ground. His bladder was full, but he could not bring himself to go into that unsanitary, tiny, bleak and black hole. He whimpered and made up his mind. He left the bathroom and ran back up to the opera house. It hit him over the head, why couldn't he just use the hole? He had to go, and it was only several decades ago since the last time he had used one of those things.

No, times have changed. He seated himself back in his seat, just as the curtains opened and the play began. The pangs in his bladder weren't too bad. He felt confident that he could hold it all in. At least until half-time. Maybe by then he would have mustered enough courage to use that hole.

He must have drunk more than he could handle. His stomach turned and his legs tightened. Finland shoved his hand between his legs and closed his eyes. Breath in. Breath out. Perfect. He jittered his legs and lost control of his breathing. Gasping for air, he rubbed his uthera. Pinching it, he hoped he could hold the bomb from going off. It was quite fortunate that he was alone in his seat, high above the others. He wasn't paying attention to the play any longer and decided to make a run for it.

He jogged as fast as his legs could take him. Cold drops leaked through and he grasped his pants once more.

Finland finally made it to the restroom. Staring down the dark hole scare him greatly. It was the end of the valley, so to drain the water and other waste. A water spout glinted in the pale orange light of the restroom. Finland unzipped his pants and pulled them down. Slowly at first, but soon sped up as another tiny spurt pushed its way out.

Relieving himself as fast as he could into the small hole, he breathed a sigh of relief. Lost in the sensation, he looked around for toilet paper. When he brought a small piece to himself he nearly lost all consciousness.

"Oh my g..." he whispered, seeing he still had his underpants on. They were stained yellow. He wondered vaguely as to why he hadn't given any thought to the warmth in that area. Hissing in anger, he pulled his pants and underwear off and headed to the sink. Submerging the soiled garments in water, he thought back to what he could have drunk to get himself so... agitated.

**ROMANO**

****Romano felt himself have the urge to... Yeah, you guessed it. Piss. Anyway, he was alone in the room, save for that bastard Spain sitting some few feet away. Spain was working on some papers, trying to sort out his debt. Romano frankly couldn't care about his debt. All he cared about was going to the restroom.

The problem was where the were. They were at a school, one of Spain's schools (to give speeches and all), and it was lunchtime. Yes, that meant tons of squirming kids going to the bathroom. Even if there wasn't a line in front of it, there still was the problem of the boy's bathroom. If anyone remembers one thing about Middle School, it was the god awful situation in the boys bathroom. Yes, toilet paper lining the walls, backed up toilets, horrible smells, and don't even mention the floors.

Romano pondered the idea of going to the girl's restroom instead. The idea was instantly gunned down. There would always be girls in there, in groups none the less. And young,bratty preteen girls would scream and call him a pedophile. It wasn't a good idea, in short. The teacher's bathroom! Of course!

Only one small problem, the teachers were also at lunch. That meant some were in the bathroom. All in all, the stubborn Romano had no choice but to stay put. That's when the throbbing began. It was slow and his eyes watered. He seriously needed to go, now. He squeaked and shifted his legs. Spain looked up from his papers. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing!" Romano shot back, moving uncomfortably in his seat. He relaxed his muscles, then, feeling that would be wiser. Oh, but it was not. The tiniest drop of urine escaped him and he closed his eyes. He felt if he took one step he would lose it. He snapped his legs closed. He placed a hand to hold himself together.

Spain walked over, and sighed. "Do you need to use the restroom, Roma?" he cracked open a bottle of water and began drinking. And I mean he was enjoying it. Head held back, water jug in hand, eyes closed, a small stream trickling out of the crevice in his lips. The water urged Romano to moan. Spain breathed deeply and wiped his mouth. He came closer to Romano and lifted his chin, staring into the teary, brown eyes. He bit his lip and sighed.

As if Romano's situation could get worse. Spain's little 'display' roused a boner. It was a pulsing boner and hitched a tent with his pants. The urine was ready to launch. Spain didn't notice.

He turned away and took off his shirt. "Still ten minutes left of lunch, boy it's hot..." he yawned and stretched, flexing his muscles. Romano bit his lip to prevent a moan. He grabbed his member and rubbed it slowly, hopping to close the pathways to urine. He stood oddly, legs flexing in a vague attempt to stop the stupid boner.

It only got worse and he clutched his pants, running into the nearest bathroom. It was one that was out of order, but he couldn't care less. He found one toilet that seemed normal and released himself into it. Feeling like a balloon would when deflated, he relaxed. The water sloshed in the bowl, and he noticed that there was no way to flush it. He planned to run out before anyone noticed, so a kid would be framed. When he was done, wiped, and ready to head out, there was a knock on the door. He peered and saw it was a janitor. Shrieking in his mind, he climbed up on the toilet. The janitor yawned and pulled open a magazine. He wasn't going to leave anytime soon. The kind old janitor also happened to position himself right in front of the door.

Romano was in quite a pickle. He couldn't leave the restroom now, then all fingers would be pointed to him for the mess he had made. He, in an uncomfortable position on the toilet, was forced to wait. He didn't dare make a single sound.

One minute... five... ten... fifteen... A half hour passed and Romano's legs were on the verge of breaking. The bell to dismiss lunch and the bell to initiate class had already sounded, and the janitor appeared to have fallen asleep. He was sure the guy's break had ended a while ago, but he remained silent. Just as Romano was ready to collapse, a loud snore woke the man and he mumbled something before leaving the restroom. Romano waited an extra few minutes, and hoped he wasn't going to be late. Running out, with aching legs, he entered the classroom. Lucky for him, Spain had only just begun to speak. "You're late," the man whispered and Romano shot him a dirty look.

_I would have loved having Spain and Romano be guest speakers at my school..._


	8. Switzerland

**And It Leaked**

**Switzerland**

****Switzerland was left to sleep at France's house for the night. His plane was late, (he and others had been in America for a meeting. He found the SwissAir to be far expensive and settled with AirFrance). He quite regretted this, seeing as he was stuck with none other than the Bad Touch Trio. Spain and Prussia had the fun idea to visit France for a while.

Switzerland was ready to strangle himself. He could at least have been less cheap. Why was he so cheap on this day? Could he not make an exception and pay the unreasonable price at that hotel? The hotel was rather old, and he yelled in his rather harsh French to get a discount. He would only be staying half the night. ("WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN'T PAY FOR JUST HALF THE NIGHT?!" "Sir... This doesn't work that way,") France lived close to the airport, so he settled there.

He was on decent terms with France (this would soon change), and didn't really believe any raw pranks would be pulled on him that night. Laying down on the leather couch in the living room, he fell asleep.

Prussia thought it would be hilarious if he pulled the hand-in-warm-water prank. Spain laughed and urged him on, but France was quite hesitant. Eventually they convinced him, and hid Switzerland's gun, which was the hard part.

The gun was firmly held by Switzerland's fingers, who held the dear thing as if it was a stuffed animal. When they pried it off, somehow without waking the jet-lagged man, they placed a bowl of warm water beneath his fingers. Oh, but there was a flaw. Switzerland was wearing leather, water-proof gloves. As prepared as a Swiss army knife, Switzerland proved to be a challenge.

They picked off the gloves as quietly as they could. When the glove slipped off, too fast, Switzerland snorted. The two froze and watched Switzerland, while France held his breath. Nothing brought him more joy than watching his friends get beaten over the head by an enraged Switzerland.

But Switzerland did not wake, he shifted and continued sleeping. The glove, now off, was placed on Switzerland's chest. As Prussia neared the bowl, Spain stopped him. "Wait..." he whispered and left. Prussia wasn't left alone for long, Spain came back shortly with some marbles, which he placed under Switzerland's legs, and several other props. He chose the cheapest looking olive oil, as to not upset France, and coated Switzerland's shoes. When all was done, he made sure the gun was empty and placed it on the top of a cabinet.

After all precautions were taken, and the water bowl millimeters away from the victim's fingers, Spain and Prussia made a run for it. Switzerland shifted again, and his hand was dunked in the water.

Seconds of silence where soon fulled by a gushing sound of water, and a circular stain appearing on Switzerland's pants. His eyes opened like a cat disrupted from its nap. He growled and ran forward, the stain still growing, and tripped over the marbles, slipped from the oil, and growled stupidly. His pant legs were soaked, streams pouring down them and wetting the floor. Switzerland's face was bright red and he looked like a kicked puppy. Tears spilled from his eyes and his knees touching. "where's my gun...?" he whimpered, "I'll kill you for making me look like this."


	9. Getting Back Into It

**And It Leaked**

_Wow, sorry I took far too long to update. I kind of grew bored of this subject. It's also really hard since I'm not really attracted to males, but ah well, all for omorashi... I'm happy you guys like it! I'll make this extra-enjoyable since I took an eternity._ This will feature Canada, Latvia, Germany, Prussia, China, Norway, and Russia (and his boss). Any other characters you want? Any specific situation you want? Review and request! It's summer break now, so hopefully the updates will be much sooner.

**Canada**

Matthew trotted around his house, guzzling down soda and waiting for America to arrive. He waited patiently at the door, wearing only a sweatshirt and boxers. The rest of him was bare and his chest felt airy, and he scratched it absently. After all, it was only his brother of all people coming.

Finally, as he crushed the soda can and tossed it in the trash, the doorbell rang. Matthew grasped the door handle and tugged it open. Alfred, shorts and t-shirt, walked in holding a pizza box and a fantastic smile. "How are ya?" He asked cheerfully, kissing his brother on the cheek hello.

Matthew smiled and welcomed Alfred to his living room, which stood tucked away in a corner of his house. The TV was prepped and ready for video-games and movies. Excitedly he answered; "Oh I'm fine, how are you? Thanks for bringing the food, by the way. I was about to cook, but I got a bit distracted, you know?" He laughed and set himself upon the leather couch.

"I'm great, thanks," Alfred grinned and picked up a controller, placing in a game he brought. "So I just bought this…"

Matthew listened to Alfred explain the new game with the zombies and guns and all, but a strange feeling pestered his abdomen. It felt as though something was tickling him. He knew the feeling well, but to leave just as Alfred arrived? Plus, it wasn't such a big deal. If he decided to leave at that very second, it could indicate that he was uninterested in Alfred's story. If he didn't leave he would have to abruptly run away during the middle of the game. Matthew bit his thumbnail in anxiety. Well, he figured, it was best he wait until the intermission between gaming and movie-viewing to go.

It was such a perfect plan, eh?

The game erupted in introduction music and Alfred jumped up and sat down with a thump besides Matthew, causing the smaller one to bounce slightly. That rattled his bladder, but not enough for him to leave.

"Here we go," Alfred whispered, leaning forward as he selected his character. Matthew did the same.

The game was loud and quiet pointless, but nonetheless it was quite fun. Matthew found himself forgetting completely about the discomfort in his belly.

Intermission came.

Alfred had grown bored eventually of the game, having played for an (un)healthy hour. He plugged in a video, a horror movie and faced Matthew with a grin. His white teeth shimmered and Matthew chuckled his response, crossing his legs.

Upon doing that, his bladder protested.

Matthew then recalled his intense need to use the restroom, but, alas, it was too late. Intermission had passed and now it was movie-time. If he left, he would appear uninterested. This was his opportunity to truly bond with his brother, and he was ready to ring it about its neck.

Alfred leaned back, placing an arm behind Matthew's head, but Matthew didn't notice. The movie was enticing, being an average shock-scare horror movie with needless background at the beginning. He jittered his legs, fidgeting slightly as the half-hour dragged on for much longer than a half-hour should.

Then, in the dark room with Alfred watching intently and Matthew half-heatedly, came the first shock. The focal character, a young man, was walking around his house when he began hearing noises. He turned around and saw a young child standing there. The music flared up and the violins seemed to have exploded. Matthew clutching his boxers tightly and Alfred gasped. It really was such a silly thing to be afraid of, but Matthew's bladder appeared to have a heart attack. Something wet trickled out of him and he only clutched tighter, hoping the darkness of the room and the color of his boxers was enough.

He relaxed after that and continued to watch the movie, but not removing his palm which was slightly wet.

Then came the second shock. After the man found the girl, he blinked, and she vanished. He sighed and went to flirt with his girlfriend. She was facing the opposite direction and when she turned around, the music was silenced as she turned, then the trombones erupted with sound as it was shown that she hadn't a face.

More liquid trickled into Matthew's open palm and pittered upon the couch. Matthew held his breath, looking at Alfred worriedly. But his brother was too engrossed to listen or care.

The movie relaxed again and so did Matthew, hoping that that he would be used to the—the woman attacked man and he tumbled back, along with the camera and the movie blacked out.

Yeah, his bladder decided it was done with this game and squeezed out all the liquid, projecting over the couch and onto the floor, drizzling as much as it could out of Matthew's boxers, with the exception of the waterfall tumbling down the pants and collecting beneath him. Matthew watched in horror, and quickly grabbed a soda, opening it and making to put it in his mouth, spilling it all over himself.

Alfred turned around, "Woah man, lemme get you a towel."

**Latvia**

Latvia stood in his bathroom, naked from his shoulders to the tips of his toes, one hand upon his abdomen, clutching at it vaguely. He had drunk at least three liters of lemonade and on top of that, a good bucketful of liquor. His bladder rumbled and he looked down his short body, shivering slightly. He was on the white bathroom rug, the coarse material rubbing against the soles of his feet as he tickled the end of his abdomen, hoping to get some sort of response. He spread his feet slightly. Oh, how he wanted to do it. Oh, oh, oh yes how much he wanted to soak the goddamn rug and make that perfect, snow white yellow as the sun.

And he attempted to push, but something held back. Something plugged his urethra. It was his nervousness, he knew, this was his first time. The first time at anything is always incredibly nerve-racking and threatening to be the last. Latvia flexed his toes and fingers, and closed his eyes.

He opened his eyes.

No, he wanted to see this.

So he pushed again.

He breathed deeply.

He pushed.

He breathed.

He pu—

Alas, there was no need. The yellow liquid flourished out and spurted down onto the carpet with a graceful plop. The carpet yellowed and Latvia enjoyed his wee guilty pleasure.

**Germany and Prussia**

"When will we get there, West, I'm starving!" Prussia howled at his brother, poking at his shoulder. Germany growled at him, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Prussia was sitting next to him, watching the mountains flit by. They were on a road trip, one that Germany was quickly starting to regret.

Hungary had insisted that it would be an excellent use of time, "brother bonding!" she called it, clapping her hands together.

Germany had agreed, having always wanted to go visit the country side and just enjoy driving for some time. Now, despite how much he loved his dear brother, he came to realize just how annoying Prussia can be.

Prussia was taking every opportunity to annoy Germany, with constant "are we there yet?"s, "oh boy I'd love to go there!"s, and some delicious "LOOK AT THAT"s. He was thumping the car seat, jamming to the hard rock music as much as he could, banging the dash board, even poking the car ornament.

Germany refused to take his eyes of the road and simply, and profoundly, ignored Prussia to the greatest of his ability.

Despite their attitudes, there was something that the brothers unfailingly shared. Their love of beer. They took swig after swig, gulp after gulp, of the brown, thick liquid the night before, and, inevitably, forgot to use the restroom. They weren't drunk, which possibly could have been better. At least then they would have emptied their bladders.

Germany wished he would have asked "Go to the bathroom now," and maybe, perhaps, "get a drink." Germany was a tad parched, and so was Prussia.

"Hey, West?" Prussia asked shyly, looking over at his brother pleadingly. "Um, could we… Um…"

He twisted his legs uncomfortably. Germany, not removing his eyes from the vacant path ahead grunted, "Ja?"

"I—Really—really—need to go!" Prussia hissed clutching his crotch and mumbling.

"Why didn't we go earlier?" Germany asked vaguely, clutching the steering wheel more tightly. Had it been a living thing, it may as well have suffocated by then.

"Yeah, but I seriously need to go." Prussia stared out the windows. "No one is around, let's just pull over and piss somewhere."

"Fine." Germany didn't argue and pulled over to the small dirt convex. He got out of the car and stretched, yawning. "Alright, let's go." He said authoritatively and trudged over to the high grasses, looking out to the mountains and unzipping his pants, letting loose curtly, blushing slightly as he felt the pounding release and the small sizzling sound. The smell of distant ammonia and vitamins reached his nostrils and he discretely sniffed.

Prussia, away and looking respectably the other way, unzipped his own pants and let loose. He felt the same sensation of relief, but something else came over him. He stuck his hand in the stream, feeling the warmth pass through his fingers and drip down his nails, honey colored and sweet, he felt. He had the unsurpassed urge to drink it, but refrained, fearing Germany would turn over any second and see him sucking at his own urine. He shook his hand, flicking off the liquid. Maybe some other time…

**China**

Yao Wang stared out the window of the plane, watching the brilliant blue sky, with fluffy white clouds rolling round, whiz past. He sighed, it was a three hour flight from New York to some state he hadn't bother to learn. It was a press conference between himself and various other nations. He twiddled with the bag between his legs. His fingers brushed over a book, an empty water bottle, an extra pair of clothing, and his boarding pass with his pass port and various other necessary parchments.

He sighed once more and leaned back, looking to his side. A young woman was fast asleep, facing the other direction, her brown hair bundled beside her face and her thin lips pursed. Yao vaguely wondered if she was having a troubled dream, but pain struck his bladder and he sighed. He cursed the large soda he had earlier and placed the bag beneath his seat, unbuckling his seat belt.

It was as if fate had decided to play with Yao, then.

The Stewardess walked by, her hair in a tight bun and her face smiling unkindly. "We will now be encountering turbulence, please stay seated until the sign above your head allows you to remove your seatbelt." She said curtly and looked over at Yao. Yao grumbled incoherently and buckled it back up, leaning in his chair and pulling out a book. He hardly read. He fidgeted his leg and tried to stare at the page and understand the downwards Chinese text, but nothing stood out to make any sense. He set it back in his book and clicked on the television in front of him. Luckily, he found a mildly amusing channel which displayed Hello Kitty and her friends.

He watched that with a small smile on his face and the faint gratitude for the lady being asleep besides him. Eventually there was a faint ding, but it sounds like a choir singing praise to Yao, for he unbuckled his seat belt and stood up, he crouched past the woman, hoping desperately that she wouldn't wake up suddenly and sharply glare at him. But she remained fast asleep, like a cat, almost. He stumbled past several rows of seats, being far back (he cursed himself for that as well) and made it to the bathroom. There was a line. Apparently fate decided to smite Yao with all his might and play a crude game. Yao glared the line, three slightly obese women, a morose man, and someone in the bathroom with a screaming child. Yao tugged at his pony tail angrily and made it back to his seat, stumbling over various objects. The pain climaxed like an orchestra within him. He stopped dead, squeezing his thighs together and whimpering helplessly.

When the tide passed and the orchestra relaxed and was reduced to the plucking of violin strings, Yao scurried back to his seat. He figured it was best to relax and depress and pressure that wished to creep up inside him. He grappled through, careful still not to wake the woman (she was ever so kind to give him a bottle of water, which he downed in a single moment).

He sat down, and then the orchestra climaxed and reached its end, where the violinists toss their bows upwards and the people on the drums lose it. He clutched his crotched and, looking around and praying he wouldn't be shamed for life, grabbed the empty water-bottle. He unscrewed the cap and shoved it into his trousers, placing the opening of the bottle at his own opening. He placed the complimentary blanket over himself, as to stifle the sound, and let loose. A small sound of hissing came through, which was amplified tenfold by Yao's worries. He lifted the bottle, heavy and warm with steaming, golden liquid. He screwed on the cap and placed it back in his bag. He wondered vaguely if he would mistake it for lemonade later… he drifted off to sleep, just as the woman next to him kindly did.

**Norway**

Norway unzipped his pants and lifted his shirt. He held his member with one hand and with the other held a wine glass. This was risky, he thought, but at any rate he may as well try it. He was alone for the most part, in his living room, and sitting on a couch, slightly forward so his "stream" could enter the cup. The cup was sparkling clean, and somewhat old, which was good, so he could throw it out when he was done.

He cupped the glass in his palm and let loose. The release was like letting a monster out of its cramped cage. It spurted and sputtered out of him and plunked into the castle, a thick, juicy stream tumbling into the cup and curling within it, before splashing back into its pool. When he was done, with a glass filled to the absolute rim and glittering slightly, he lifted it up, leaving himself unzipped and open, oh, but he wasn't done, in reality. He continued, for the wine glass was actually quite small, he held it up between his middle and ring fingers, like an expensive wine, and moaning in pleasure as he urinated directly to the ground, the stream arching up and plopping to the floor in a small puddle. He ran his fingers through his blonde hair and watched as the drops lessened until it was only a small trickle dirtying his pants.

The cup in his hand, where the liquid swiveled and licked the tip of the cup, dripping down and kissing his finger tips. He leaned forward, holding the glass before him like a chalice. It glimmered in the sunlight like a small star. He brought it to his nose and smelled the freshness and crisp smell that comes from urine. Then, he tipped the glass and let it splash over his body and floor. He'd clean that up later.

"Hey, brother—" A cold voice rattled from the doorway.

Norway shot up and looked over his shoulder. Iceland stood there, his eyes staring at him and his arms poised and frozen.

"I-It's not what it looks like," Norway stammered.

"Oh, I… Of course," Iceland retreated, holding the door handle and trying desperately not to stare at the puddle and instead at Norway's eyes. He found he was unable to stare at either and suddenly became interested in the door handle. "Um, I wanted to ask, do you have that book you promised to let me borrow?" What a weak question, he thought, but it certainly was better than, _Dear God, what the hell are you doing?!_

"Um, yeah, it's…" Norway stood up, stepping in his own puddle awkwardly. "It's in the other room," he absently tucked in his manhood and zipped up. "Go ahead and get it." He covered his face with a trembling hand.

**Russia**

Russia sat in front of his boss, tucked away beneath the desk and sitting quite comfortably on the leather divan.

The boss's voice droned on, Russia listened half-heartedly, hardly paying attention unless the boss made direct contact with his eyes. He twiddled his thumbs, placed upon his lap. He wore a tight suit of blue so dark it thought it was black. He ran his hands down his legs and reached his knees, grasping them.

He really shouldn't have had so much to drink that morning. Oh, but his sister's cherry juice really was very good, and so sweet and sour was it! He licked his lips at the memory lingering on his tongue. His boss looked at him, and he smiled sheepishly in return.

Then, it hit him. The pressure was building like an oncoming war at his urethra, the liquid was shoving against the barrier, promising to be good if only _it was let out. _Russia hissed at it mentally, telling it that it was being rather nasty.

He decided to pay attention to his boss, then. The words drilled holes in his brain, which sealed up and drowned the words before they could be understood. He grappled with his dress shirt, sweat beading at his forehead and trickling down his cheek and to his chin. He wiped it away and blushed furiously.

The relief was insane. Russia forced himself to make cold, even contact with his boss while the liquid slid down his pant legs and into his shoes. It felt as like a pimple being popped, but continuously. The drops rolled down his body.

His boss stood and Ivan snapped his thighs together, placing his hands upon his lap eloquently. "Yes, sir?" He asked worriedly, looking over at his boss as he paced.

"This is the third time you've soiled my carpet…" He muttered. "Did you do this with others?"

"No…" Russia whispered, hurt. Oi, he certainly wasn't in a very good place.


End file.
